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It was a quieter day. Not for the members, who were bustling back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, lacing the sound of their soft chuckles with the opening and closing of cupboards, metal spoons hitting bowls, Jimin and Hobi bickering about the size of the latter’s ice cream scoops. It was a quieter day for Jin. His bubble of energy had minimized and tucked itself into the corner of his brain for tonight. A bright, strident anthem switching seats with the softest aria. On days like these, Jin was thankful for the members’ observing skills. As his energy moved and shifted, theirs did too. Jimin’s laughs would quiet down and he’d welcome the silence between them; sometimes he’d breathe his heart into it, ask his older brother if something’s weighing on his mind. There was never a moment where comfort and care made their way out of their home.
Namjoon, seated closest to him, lifted his head up from his phone as the sound of Hoseok slapping the floor pierced through the room. Hope’s face, seemingly brighter with the magnitude of his laugh, was angled towards Jimin who’d taken it upon himself to squeeze his head into the empty ice cream tub and start dancing. Taehyung and Jungkook were huddled together, Jungkook tapping on his phone incessantly as he captured Jimin’s zoomed in face, while the former held onto the maknae’s arm as he laughed silently. It was a happy moment—yes, extremely silly, but still happy—and small smiles crawled across both the leader’s and Jin’s faces.
Jin knew Jungkook was content amidst the buzz in the open kitchen; the youngest was comfortably silent, only offering his crinkled eyes and large smile as the members continued to bounce off of each other’s foolery. His glance had not once made its way towards Jin, and the latter tried his best to shake off any hints of hurt. He couldn’t ask Jungkook to process his hurricane of emotions any faster, couldn’t will him to accept and swallow down what having those feelings in the first place meant. Every one of them was already struggling to view their whole reflection in the mirror—this was another facet of his being that Jungkook had to fathom. So Jin understood the distance, but the chill of it still made him feel cold.
The volume in the kitchen had gone down, and while Taehyung and Hobi shared the task of cleaning the dishes, Jimin had wrapped his arms around Jungkook, embracing him in a tight back hug as they stumbled to the sofa across from Jin. Yoongi, who had been silently listening and repeating and listening and repeating and listening and repeating to the same demo blaring out from his headphones, paused his music and lifted his head to face the pair. “So, you’re just going to cuddle while leaving all the hard-work to them?” He gestured at Hoseok and Taehyung.
Jin could barely make out Jungkook’s muffled no’s as Jimin lifted him up and crashed both of them on the couch, his body weighing on the youngest’s, face resting in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. The two quickly straightened up, and though Jin was certain one of them had responded to Yoongi, his mind had traveled to somewhere very different that he couldn’t make out which one of them it was.
He was tired. Tired of what, he wasn’t certainly sure. And he also just didn’t know how tired he was. What he did know is that this exhaustion was standing in front of him now, taunting and pulling at him, kneading at his shoulders and mocking the way he allowed a sunbeam of hope to convince him that he was the only one Jungkook wanted to be close to. Their intimacy was only a daily dosage of endorphins. Only an orchestrated dance that would happen until Jungkook found himself closer to another member.
It was time to let his head rest. Jin silently bid Namjoon goodnight; the latter held his gaze for a while, a question in his eyes, and Jin blinked slowly with a brief, small smile to affirm that he was alright. As he stood, Yoongi let out a small chuckle.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep before I am. Because that’s saying a lot.”
Jin forced a smile, attempting to dispel the aura of unease he felt surrounding him. “It seems our energies were switched today, Yoongi-ah.”
Suga raised an eyebrow, but nodded anyway. “It seems so. Goodnight, hyung.”
Hoseok’s, Jimin’s, and Taehyung’s goodnights all came at once, a chorus of loud and well intentioned biddings that were followed by a small, hesitant goodnight from Jungkook. His eyes only met his hyung’s for a brief moment, and his face seemed to shrink beneath the hood of the black sweater he was wearing.
Jungkook had began this week with shying away completely from Jin; reddening whenever their eyes met each other’s, shriveling as Jin’s skin met his. When once the maknae would link their fingers together, trace Jin’s hands out with his thumb, marvel at the way something as small and trivial as hands meeting could feel so warm and explosive, he now recoiled from even an accidental touch. Jin figured it was time for him to shy away from this too.
—
He’d climbed into bed at 11:15. Fumbled with his RJ plushy until he couldn’t feel anything in his hands anymore. Tonight he was sleeping with the curtains open because at least the glimpse of Hannam-dong could remind him that the world was so much bigger and brighter than what he was feeling right now. The AC in his room made a soft rumbling noise and his chest sunk in exhalation as he sighed thinking about what it felt like having Jungkook resting next to him that night in Toronto.
“The AC would stop for a moment, but then you’d start with your quiet snores, hyung,” Jungkook teased early the next morning. They were still in bed, facing each other, and for a moment, as V and Jimin slept, there was no hesitation or tension between them. Their smiles lifted the other up, and Jin could see the glitter in Jungkook’s eyes as they joked back and forth.
The maknae’s smile had fallen suddenly, and just as confusion was about to flood Jin’s head, Jungkook lifted his arm slowly from his side of the bed.
“You’ve got a…,” his knuckles rested on Jin’s cheek, and softly, he moved his thumb across his hyung’s face. Jin’s eyes didn’t dare follow Jungkook’s hands. He was afraid if he’d look away, he wouldn’t be able to face the maknae again. “An eyelash.” Jungkook continued very quietly. He let his hands fall back on the space that was left between them.
Slowly, his smile crept up again, this time much bigger. “I shouldn’t have just thrown it away. Now you’re not able to wish that the universe slows down so that you can stop growing older.”
“What makes you think that that’s what I’d wish for?” The question left Jin’s mouth before he could even think about it. It was like his body knew all the words to say but was only waiting for the right time to say them.
Jungkook, too light in enjoyment of the moment, didn’t stop to think about what would come next. What mattered was that they were here, so close to each other, somewhat nearer to reaching a place where they were carefree. Where they didn’t have to think about minimizing who they were before arriving as themselves.
“So what would you wish for then?”
The world stopped.
“That we can have this moment for just a bit longer.”
Sunlight weaved through the window blinds. Jungkook’s eyes widened for a second, and then crescented. A honeyed smile painted his face.
The world began anew.
—
Jin’s eyes gleamed in the dark. He was frozen for a moment, couldn’t get his eyes to close or his body to move. It had been six months since then. The warmth they had shared between them for the longest time was now electrifying, and neither of them knew whether to be exhilarated or afraid. Jin felt that now that Jungkook had seen the lightning, he was scrambling to avoid it.
A small ache bloomed in Seokjin’s chest, and he turned to lie on his back. He figured he could pick up his phone and play games until his mind went numb enough for him to sleep, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out how much time he’d wasted thinking about Jungkook and everything in between them. He picked up his phone anyway. The screen glared at him. It was 2:04 AM. Jin groaned.
He turned to face the window again. Might as well humor myself. He clutched his plushy tighter and decided to dedicate his efforts to counting RJs. Tomorrow would be a better day, a day where fewer of his thoughts would be about Jungkook, a day where he would be more ready to let go of an almost love.
Somewhere in between the fifty sixth shut off street light and the 143rd RJ, Seokjin heard the soft creak of his door. He heaved a deep sigh, eyes fluttering open. He was certain he’d closed it completely when he went to bed, and he wasn’t tired enough to wave off the nagging need to make sure his door was shut. He threw off his duvet and scrambled to his feet, a few strands of hair falling over and irritating his eyes. He turned quickly, mindlessly bumping his leg into the side of the bed and momentarily losing his balance. The world felt completely silent as he steadied himself by bending and placing both of his hands on his bed.
He could feel himself moving too slowly; but he felt heavy and burdened, so he didn’t care. He straightened and dragged his hair out of his face. And then the world fell even more silent. Jungkook was standing at the door, half of himself in the room, and half of himself cowering behind the door where Jin couldn’t see him. His mouth was silently open and his eyes were round with apprehension.
“I- I’m sorry if I woke you up.” His voice was extremely quiet. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Jin was rigid. His mind opaque, white light; mouth operating on its own with too feeble of a connection between it and his brain. “Did you even try? I thought you’d be working on videos right now.” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but he didn’t think welcoming Jungkook with open arms was appropriate anymore. Still, he became increasingly aware of how much space there was between them both, and how uncomfortable they’d be if it became any smaller.
More than anything, Jin’s mind reeled with thoughts about why Jungkook was here. He’d spent the better half of the night trying to replay the distance between them until it was as familiar as his own name. He was nowhere near the end result he desired, but he definitely didn’t want to regress back to stage one. And Jungkook being here posed a threat.
Jungkook’s eyes traveled to the floor, and his head fell slightly. “Right. I was.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, I was trying at least.” His voice slowly cemented itself. “But I couldn’t focus. And I wanted to talk to someone.” His eyes met Jin’s, and stayed there.
Jin crossed his arms out of instinct. All the humor and silliness had flooded out of him, and what was left behind was a stiff exterior. The members were familiar with this version of him now—a sobered, unwavering pillar. It’d make itself known in the moments where Namjoon allowed himself to shrink from the persona of leader and simply be Jin’s dongsaeng; the moments where life was too hectic and unsteady for the boys to have all the answers figured out; the moments where they needed a clear, firm voice to break through the chaos and slow everything down. Jungkook hated facing this version of Jin alone.
There was only a brief moment of weighty silence before Jin’s voice sounded out. “I’m sure Jimin is still awake.”
He was being petty now, but he was too tired to fight it.
Jungkook’s mouth opened slightly, before closing in a tight line. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He murmured, and Jin could feel the hurt attached to his words. The maknae’s gaze dropped and he turned to leave. Jin could feel his chest tighten and his jaw clench; anger, disappointment and longing all simmering inside of him. If he didn’t keep a solid hold on himself, the room would be doused in red.
Jungkook stopped moving, and slowly turned back to face Jin again. His fingers were moving back and forth in the space right below his nose, and he released a quick breath. His hand fell. “I don’t want to talk to Jimin. I wanted to talk to you.”
Jin allowed himself to feel the wave that came with Jungkook’s words. “What do you want to talk about?” He asked. He knew he wasn’t giving Jungkook much to work with, that the bite in the chill of his voice was extremely evident, but what more was there to give after all the space that Jungkook had created between them this week?
The door closed shut. Jungkook took a few steps towards his hyung. The anxiety roamed in the space surrounding him, and his hands found each other and interlocked. “I know I can’t keep trying to work everything out without remembering that you’re a part of this, too,” he breathed. There was a vulnerable yearning in his deep brown eyes, or maybe it was just the shine from the city’s nightscape and Seokjin was overthinking it, but either way, it tugged at him.
Jin could see the maknae’s chest rising up and down. Jungkook swallowed and took another step towards Jin. “I don’t know how to just accept something that I don’t understand. And I didn’t know how to face it and talk about it with you, either. But it wasn’t right of me to shut you out.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Jin whispered.
“I know. It didn’t feel right, either. But…I just didn’t know what else to do. You’ve never—well, I’ve never either—but you’ve never said anything out loud. I’ve spent half the time trying to figure out if I’ve been dreaming everything up, thinking that I’m delusional. That you’re just my hyung.” His eyes slowly fell to the floor.
His voice sunk down to a hush. “The thing is, it’s okay if that’s all it is.” He faced Jin. “But I need to be true to myself before I move on.”
Jin thought it must have been eons ago that he was counting RJs. Back then, his heart was just an organ. Now it was a hammer thudding against his chest, orchestrating its own escape. Jungkook’s eyes were glittering, and as he looked at Jin, a sad smile bloomed on his face.
“I’m not good with words, hyung. I think one of the reasons I like you so much is that you don’t expect me to be.” Jin’s heart broke at how earnest the maknae was. “I think I make videos for that feeling I get right at the end, when everything is beautiful and organized and right. It’s a strange, beautiful feeling. Like warm tickles that blossom inside of you.”
Jungkook paused. The pair let the silence nestle itself between them for a moment.
“You give me that feeling all the time.”
Jin’s heart crashed down to his stomach. Across from him, the maknae, too, was losing his mind over what he just said. A nervous chuckle burst out of him, and he covered his face with his hands before dragging them down and away.
“I’m sorry. I just—I feel like I’m walking into happiness when I’m with you. This past week, I’ve tried my hardest to keep all of this,” he gestured to the air, “from spilling out. But what has this year been about, what has Namjoon hyung talked incessantly about, other than speaking yourself?”
Jin could tell he’d been rehearsing that line, and he fought himself to keep a smile from rising on his face.
“Jungkook-ah.” He said, firmly.
The maknae’s eyes grew bigger. “Yes?”
The edges of Jin’s mouth rose. “You’ve got,” he inched towards Jungkook until the space between them could barely hold the energy they were radiating off of each other, “you’ve got an eyelash.” His hands gently grazed Jungkook’s right cheek, and Jin could hear the maknae softly inhale at his touch.
Jungkook lifted his arm and lightly pressed his fingers to Jin’s hand. His eyes were darting sideways, pupils dilated. Maybe it was because of the dark. Maybe it was because he was trying his best to capture the magnitude of this moment. Either way, their bodies impulsively inched even closer together, and Jin was almost convinced that a jolt of electricity had passed through the both of them.
Jungkook’s clasp on Jin’s hand tightened as they brought their hands down to their waists. “H-hyung.” Jungkook stuttered. “I need to thank you—I need to thank you for giving me a space where I can feel light.” His voice trembled so very slightly, but Jin heard it anyway. He was listening so hard he thought he could hear Jungkook’s blood flow through his veins. The maknae rested his forehead on Jin’s and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were shimmering.
A million thoughts raced through Jin’s mind in a whirlwind. All his words had escaped him. He didn’t know how to internalize everything Jungkook had just said. In a few words, in a few heartbeats, he had translated the warm magic that they both gave each other. Jin cursed his own speechlessness. When the words finally came out, he wanted to curse them, too.
“You haven’t made a wish.”
Jungkook’s mouth fell open for a second, and then a short chuckle escaped him. He gazed intently at his hyung. “You’re right.” He smiled, and brought his hand back up to caress Jin’s cheek. “I hope that you’re wishing for the same thing.”
The maknae’s thumb grazed Jin’s bottom lip as his eyes fell to Jin’s mouth. “That we can have this moment for just a bit longer.”
Happiness flew like a fairy in the space around Jin, coated itself around his body, and lifted the corners of his much into the most brilliant smile.
“We can,” Jin whispered. His head tilted slightly and he interlocked Jungkook’s free hand with his. When their lips met—there were no fireworks—it wasn’t like dynamite or butterflies. As Jin brought Jungkook closer to him, placed his chest on the maknae’s so that their heartbeats were bouncing off of each other’s, all he could feel was tranquility.
—
A few street lights were still shining in Hannam-dong as Jin held Jungkook close to his chest under his duvet. The maknae had fallen asleep within minutes, hand resting above Jin’s as their bodies weaved a bundle of warmth. He’d shivered at the feeling of his hyung running his fingers through his hair, displayed his shining half-asleep smile as he asked Jin to kiss him goodnight.
Yes, worry would probably creep on them tomorrow. Yes, they would dread not saving their earnest confessions for the morning for the sake of eight hours of sleep. But as Jungkook’s chest rose and fell beneath Jin’s arm, Seokjin could swear that content had wrapped itself tight around his body.
Tomorrow would be a better, brighter day for the both of them. For they had finally come home.